By Denis Schultz
If Bernard Piffy had been Mike Hammer he would have known what to do. He would have pulled out the old trusty Army Colt.45 and blasted Umyar back into the Pleistocene Age, filled him so full of holes he would have been mistaken for a Swiss cheese in a Tom and Jerry cartoon. But Piffy had left his peashooter back in his flat over the Red Dragon.
